


Blue and Yellow are complementary

by AmmoKnotKnot7



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, Established Relationship, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Fluff, M/M, POV Sokka (Avatar), Post-War, i mean probably, zuko is a theater kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25733839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmmoKnotKnot7/pseuds/AmmoKnotKnot7
Summary: Zuko blinks. Registers. And then he snorts a little. “What, because of my eyes?”Laughter is bubbling up and bursting out of Sokka before he’s fully even understood what’s happening. He straightens to look at Zuko through eyes squeezed in mirth and slightly filling with tears. Zuko looks surprised but utterly delighted, and no force in the world can stop Sokka from planting a huge wet kiss on his cheek.“Darling. Zuko. Sunshine. Honey.  Oh  my spirits,” he says, still laughing. “How long have you been robbing the world of your humour, my love. Snow and sea, I taught you too well.”A simple headcanon about favourite colours.Sokka and Zuko learn more about each other as they watch the sun rise together. Turns out eyes aren't the reason after all, and maybe they were always sort of meant to be.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 370





	Blue and Yellow are complementary

**Author's Note:**

> a writer's block in the middle of my longform fic which is the first of a lengthy planned canon Zukka series is very inconvenient, and this was my solution  
> just needed to work on something simple and fresh, and i've been sitting on this headcanon for a while

Sokka had expected the FireLord's chambers to be obnoxious. Excessively opulent furniture spread over a huge space that could easily house a family of five back home, an enormous bed that is too fluffy to actually sleep in, all painted in garish tones of red, maroon, black. He’s never understood the Fire Nation propensity for red. How anyone could feel comfortable surrounded by a colour that feels like it’s screaming, he would never know. 

The first time he sees Zuko's renovated chambers, he’s floored. 

It is oddly... humble. It is large, surely, as a FireLord deserves, but other than that, Sokka wouldn’t immediately identify this room as belonging to the figurehead of the richest nation in the world. Perhaps there’s something to be said for the quality, if he was the kind of person who could distinguish rich people stuff from the regular. 

Otherwise, it is simply decorated. Sokka would go as far as to call it tasteful, but then Toph would remind him he has no real taste worth anything. 

Most of it actually a warm rich brown and polished gold. The only overtly red thing he can spot is the traditional carpet over the sitting area, and even that is woven with golden patterns. The furniture is primarily wooden, Sokka is sure of the rarer variety but he has no way of knowing. Zuko’s sheets are a deep maroon that’s almost black, but embroidered so heavily with gold that it is not remotely as displeasing as Sokka had pictured. There’s even a hint of green, a jade Pai Sho set showcased proudly on a coffee table under the window. The walls are light, with only a few adornments. A painting of two dragons, one red, one blue, circling each other infinitely. Rainbow fire sprouting from the tips of a pair of crossed dao. 

A series of theatre masks from Zuko's favourite play. 

It’s missing the blue one. 

Sokka frowns. Surely Zuko wouldn’t exclude that one simply because it’s a Water Tribe colour, right? 

It’s a fleeting thought, discarded as quickly as it surfaces. If not anything else, Zuko is too much of a purist to leave his collection incomplete intentionally, and certainly not due to some elitist bias. 

*** 

They’re sharing a pot of jasmine in the balcony attached to the bedroom when Sokka voices his thoughts. It’s one of those mornings that being close to Zuko is more appealing than sleep, and they’re watching the night sky brighten on the horizon together, barely clothed in light robes. 

“By the way,” Sokka asks, and Zuko hums to indicate he’s listening, leaning towards him slightly, “why don’t you have the blue mask?” 

Zuko smiles absently, sleep still clinging to the edges of his expression, and Sokka feels a wave of affection that is starting to become a close friend. It never stops being a wonder to him, that he is just allowed to love this incredible man now, without holding himself back. 

“I had to leave it in Ba Sing Se,” Zuko says cryptically. 

Sokka prides himself on his detective capabilities. He's watched this play multiple times, and enjoyed Zuko’s running commentary on the bad, as well as his enchantment with the good renditions. He knows what the mask looks like. 

His brain scrambles and connects dots, identifies patterns and forms an image. 

He rounds on his boyfriend incredulously. 

“ _You're_ the Blue Spirit?” 

Zuko’s smile widens into something delighted and smug. Sokka’s voice cracks over his dramatic shocked exclamation. 

After a little while of sputtering, Sokka is shaking his head at the rapidly rising sun. 

“And here I thought blue didn’t go with your style.” 

Zuko gives him an oddly unreadable look. “What do you mean?” 

Sokka shrugs noncommittally. “You know. The whole FireLord vibe. I was pretty surprised that your chamber wasn’t all fire red and black.” 

“You, uh, you don’t like the decor?” 

Zuko sounds small and insecure, and he’s refusing to make eye contact. This simply won’t do, especially when it’s about something he’s completely misunderstood. 

“No no, babe, that’s what,” he reaches out to cup Zuko’s scarred cheek, tilting his head up, “I thought I wouldn’t like it, but I _do,_ I really do.” Zuko is looking at him again, so this is good. “I just thought red would be like, your favourite colour or something. Jerkbender prince that you were.” 

Zuko makes a noise that Sokka only belatedly recognises as a scoff. It’s soft but clearly deliberate. 

Sokka knows Zuko very well by now. He waits, thumb stroking over his cheekbones gently. 

And after a few quiet moments, Zuko speaks. Speaking is a very generous word, Zuko is barely whispering and Sokka has to strain to understand. 

“It, uh. It’s actually. Um. Like. Blue.” 

Sokka blinks. It’s been long enough that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about at first. 

“What?” 

Inexplicably, Zuko flushes, pretty pink rising in his cheeks. Distantly, Sokka notes it as adorable, as he does every time he can make Zuko blush. 

“Uh. You – I mean. You asked about. Favouritecolour,right?” 

He rushes through the words so quickly that Sokka still has to work to parse through it all. And connect it to the previous comment. 

Oh. _Oh._

“Blue is your favourite colour?” he asks, hushed. 

Zuko goes from pink to red, and it’s precious. His lips are pressed in a tight line, but he nods. 

“Aw, baby.” Sokka will never tire of the look Zuko gives him every time he calls him something like that. “Is it because of my eyes?” 

Zuko snorts so sudden and loud it completely throws him. “No, not because of your eyes, you bigheaded moron.” It is said fondly, but it still sufficiently reminds Sokka that the shy adorable Zuko he is learning more about as their relationship progresses is the same prickly awkward teenager he was best friends with for years. 

Sokka rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Why, then?” 

“You figured it out already.” When Sokka continues to look confused, Zuko huffs fondly. “The Blue Spirit, love. _Love amongst the Dragons_ was my mother’s favourite play, remember? She used to read it out to me, we acted out the parts together, and I was always the Blue Spirit.” 

It’s a very sweet story, and Sokka loses himself in the idea of a tiny Zuko playing pretend with his loving mother. 

Something occurs to him. 

“So you’ve liked blue ever since then?” 

“Yeah, more or less.” 

“ _Sweetheart”_

Zuko looks taken aback at Sokka’s shocked tone. His brow furrows lightly and he tilts his head, taking Sokka’s hand with it. Sokka struggles to not melt on the spot. 

“What?” Zuko asks, confused. 

Sokka shifts so they’re entirely facing each other, leaning his hip against the railing and placing his cup of tea down. His hand moves from Zuko’s cheek to his hair, gently patting and smoothing it down. Zuko closes his eyes against the feeling, clearly savouring it, and Sokka kind of wants to cry now. 

“I’ve never seen you owning anything blue, ever,” he says, a little hushed. 

Zuko shrugs one shoulder, dismissive. “Eh, you know how it is. Gotta keep up appearances and stuff. For a long time I refused to even accept I liked blue.” 

The idea of Zuko denying himself simple joys for the sake of his image is... actually much too believable, but no less heart-breaking for all that. Sokka loops his arms around Zuko’s neck and leans in to press their foreheads together. Serious talk time. 

“Sunshine. You deserve to have your room, or even just some of your things, be the colour you would like them to be. No one is going to see you as less of a FireLord if you enjoy blue.” 

Zuko is looking up at him with wide vulnerable eyes. It’s the expression he always has when Sokka reminds him he is allowed and deserves things like pleasure and happiness. It makes Sokka want to punch something. Or someone. A very particular someone who's currently rotting in a jail cell.

After a few moments while Zuko absorbs it all, he says, “I already have my favourite shade of blue in my room, though.” 

Sokka is frowning, first, wondering how he could have missed something like that, before he sees the twinkle in Zuko’s eye, the slight tilt on one end of his mouth. Zuko's teasing, and Sokka connects the dots. 

He breaks apart to laugh, and then leans back in to kiss him soundly. “You sly polar dog.” He gives Zuko a few seconds with his proud-to-have-made-Sokka-laugh expression, and then adds, “So you do like my eyes then, huh?” 

He expected Zuko to roll his eyes or something, instead his face goes all soft and Sokka is caught off guard. Zuko is reaching to hold Sokka’s face like it’s something precious, and Sokka is dying. 

“I really really do,” he says, and it is as earnest as the sun is bright. 

Sokka groans in embarrassment and hides his face in Zuko’s neck. He laughs lightly, a melodic sound, and goes to pick up his cup of tea while the other hand rubs at Sokka’s back. 

Eventually Sokka returns to the real world, leaving a kiss in the soft skin of Zuko’s neck in vague apology, and finishes his now cold tea in one go. Zuko gives him a scandalised look that he totally anticipated (and is primarily the reason he did that) and he kisses it off him. 

Zuko is still dutifully sipping on his never-cold tea, and Sokka is resting his head on his strong shoulder, arm around his waist, watching the sky get blinding. 

Zuko mumbles something. 

“What’s that, my love?” Sokka relishes in the pink of his cheeks as always. 

“Um. I was just. Wondering. It's stupid.” 

“Baby” 

Zuko huffs. “I mean. It’s probably just blue too, right?” 

This morning is much too peaceful for Sokka to have to do so much thinking. “What, my favourite colour?” 

“Yeah. Told you it was dumb.” 

“It’s not,” Sokka says, and squeezes him to reinforce the point, “and actually. It's kind of yellow.” 

Zuko blinks. Registers. And then he snorts a little. “What, because of my eyes?” 

Laughter is bubbling up and bursting out of Sokka before he’s fully even understood what’s happening. He straightens to look at Zuko through eyes squeezed in mirth and slightly filling with tears. Zuko looks surprised but utterly delighted, and no force in the world can stop Sokka from planting a huge wet kiss on his cheek. 

“Darling. Zuko. Sunshine. Honey. Oh my spirits,” he says, still laughing. “How long have you been robbing the world of your humour, my love. Snow and sea, I taught you too well.” 

The look on Zuko’s face is so pleased, even if he tries to hide it under rolling eyes. Sokka wants to capture this moment and hold it in his heart forever. And present it whenever anybody dares imply his Zuko is stoic or emotionless or intimidating or surly. 

After Sokka manages to collect himself, he remembers how the conversation got to where it did. 

“Fuck, babe,” he exclaims, and Zuko grins at him sideways. “Spirits, I forgot what this was about. Right. No, actually, not because of your eyes.” He can’t help but chuckle again. “Your eyes are golden, for the record. Not yellow, and definitely not dark amber,” he says, shaking his head at the memories of Zuko trying to downplay the numerous times Sokka has been compelled to compose poetry about those hypnotic eyes. 

Zuko sighs, but doesn’t argue. His curiosity is winning over his insecurities. “Why yellow, then?” 

“It’s, eh, it’s kind of a yellow.” Sokka makes a so-so motion with his hand. “Like. You know how we have a few weeks of polar night every winter?” Zuko nods. “Katara used to love that time of year, thrived in the darkness, probably some dumb spirit magic water thing. But I always used to wait impatiently for the light to return. And when the sun rose above the horizon, it kind of filtered through the snow banks as a soft yellow? I don’t how to explain exactly, like after the whole orange pink thing is over it becomes a yellow, but not as bright as it is here. But not dull exactly. Just a sort of hazy yellow, do you get me?” 

“Um,” Zuko says, “I thought you said the sun reflects off snow blindingly white.” 

“No no not reflection. Kind of like filtering through. It's just a very soft muted version of that yellow,” he says, pointing to the sun in front of them. 

“I think I understand.” 

“Hm yeah. So to me that colour always meant we survived another winter and now we can go hunting and fishing and _do things_. Plus it was a very pretty colour so,” Sokka shrugs. “Yellow.” 

Zuko hums. At some point he’s ended up resting on Sokka’s shoulder instead, and he lifts his head to place a soft kiss to the underside of Sokka’s jaw. Pressed against Zuko with a protective, supportive, loving arm holding him, and being held in return, Sokka has never felt so content. 

“That was beautiful,” Zuko whispers. And because Sokka is a predictable cheesy romantic who is utterly gone for this man, he replies, “Not as much as you.” 

Just as predictably, Zuko blushes but says, “Shut up”, and their morning goes from there. 

As they’re moving through the familiar motions of readying for the day, Sokka looks over at Zuko and thinks, maybe what the world needs right now is a FireLord that loves blue. 

He is certainly what Sokka needs, now and always. 

**Author's Note:**

> do i know whether that snow thing is possible at all? no.  
> just go with me here
> 
> after this Zuko gets the exact right shade of translucent yellow and replaces their curtains. Sokka returns it with a blue spirit mask from zuko's fav drama troupe.  
> later the betrothal necklace stones reflect these preferences too
> 
> by the way, [the fic i'm currently working on](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24771709) is an awesome sokka-centric, eventual zukka post-canon fic, you should totally check it out ;)
> 
> tumblr: https://omni-flex.tumblr.com/


End file.
